(Pronunciation: Grynne: Just like the English word "grin." Matrix: Like the English word meaning a setting or source.)
Grynne would say he was an opportunist; others, less charitably, would just have called him a petty thief. He always kept an eye out for the unguarded prize, the distracted owner of a bulging purse, the door accidentally left ajar by someone hurrying out of the house, the handbag accidentally left behind. He hated avoidable risk even more passionately than he hated the idle rich -- idle and rich at least by his standards -- who lived in the great houses in and about his chosen home town, but loved the thrill of split-second action, of careful plans and swift execution, of reacting to the unexpected instinctively. He ran away from home at so young an age, he no longer remembers the reason; his parents might have thwarted some little whim, or he might have been bored and seeking excitement, or he might simply have struck out for himself for the thirtieth time to try and fend for himself and learn the streets, and never gotten around to returning. No doubt his parents searched for him, but by the time they knew he was gone, he was well on his way down the road, and would soon be two or three towns away.
He finally settled down in Venighas, the largest and most important city in its region of the Fire Coast, when he was still just a boy, living on and off the streets. Resilient, crafty, and adaptable, he had no trouble finding and stealing -- or buying with stolen money, or money made from the sale of stolen goods -- what he needed to eat, and scrounging places to shelter and sleep. He found the best and easiest place to "work" -- relieving the wealthy of a small portion of their riches, and providing it to the impoverished, primarily including his impoverished self -- and the tricks that would best keep him from being seen. Of these, one of the most reliable became shadowing Matrix.
Matrix got started on her career when her father, desperate for work, managed to persuade a prospective employer to visit his home. Matrix liked the sense of wealth and ease about the stranger, and displayed her interest in ways that got his attention; he said he liked her spunk, and his lecherous eyes said they liked everything about her that could be seen, only wishing they could see more. Well into her late teens, she was already used to getting whatever boys near her age could offer just by asking the right way and moving the right way as she asked, and from the way the wealthy stranger reacted to her silent encouragement, she supposed the same ploys would work on him, all the more since he seemed to have so much to give.
Of course, it wasn't that simple. Her father didn't like what he was seeing at first, but eventually came to terms with it as he landed an easy job, paying more than a fair wage, and his daughter seemed to enjoy his employer's attentions and the gifts she received. As for Matrix's mother, she was glad to be rid of the dangers of poverty, and helped teach Matrix how to keep the old lecher interested as best she could. It didn't last -- the father's employment little longer than the employer's infatuation -- but Matrix learned from the experience: What went wrong, what went her way, which of her mother's primitive suggestions worked best, and how to improve upon them. By the end, she was disgusted with the old man, but not with what she'd done. She felt that if she chose younger men, more vulnerable, trusting, and faithful -- if she avoided lechers and other scum who knew what they wanted and had a price already in mind, and worked instead on twisting otherwise scrupulous young men into a kind of faithfulness to /her/ and their secret trysts, she could gain more from each, with fewer dangers and more security. It would take more work, more planning, and greater subtlety, but she had no objection to any of that, if it would grant her the independence she desired, and the means of escaping the impoverished home and parents whom she blamed for goading her into the lecher's despicable embrace.
By the time Grynne spotted her, she was working on her own, having more or less abandoned her parents to their own devices. She had perfected ways of dressing and walking and behaving that would capture the senses and imaginations of the kinds of men she wanted without getting her into trouble with their consciences or other passers-by -- and hidden ways of defending herself from approaches of the wrong kind. She already had a few reliable "customers" and was able to get by, so she was patient, and let her potent beauty work on the next customers-to-be, working at a kind of performance art to arouse their curiosity and interest so they could tell themselves there were other reasons for their eyes to follow her than the deep, animal, instinctive ones that ensured they always did. It was this first stage of captivation, the one that seemed to affect almost everyone at least to some extent, that got Grynne's attention. He noticed her, and noticed that wherever she went, moving and behaving the way she did, eyes followed her, and heads turned, and footsteps slowed, and attention on everything but Matrix herself and her actions lapsed. Cutting purses was child's play when Matrix was working her spell; Grynne could all but steal the shirts off of young men's backs sometimes while they stared and lost track of time and space, as long as he didn't obstruct their view of her. She had honed her craft to the point where just passing by, doing her thing, was enough to break certain men's hearts.
Perhaps Grynne was still too young to be affected, or perhaps Matrix's carefully-honed act really did work most powerfully on the faithful would-be victims she preferred, but Grynne was never really interested in Matrix's allure except as it affected the people around him. Perhaps he simply recognized her traps for what they were, and saw a kindred spirit in her rather than a beauty to be pursued or an evil to be shunned. Whatever the reason, he often cheerfully followed in Matrix's wake, looking everywhere but at her, awaiting the moment when no one was in sight but Matrix herself and various men unable to turn their eyes or an iota of their attention anywhere else, so he could rob them blind, picking targets of opportunity or of course those that seemed to have the greatest wealth. It worked like a charm for a while, until Matrix herself happened to spot him in the act of stealing a purse, and narrowed her eyes dangerously. He reacted at once with swift signs for silence and friendship and pause, and she made a split-second decision and went on with what she was doing instead of alerting their mutual victim to his danger. Perhaps she too saw a kindred spirit in Grynne, or perhaps she simply decided it was better for her victim to lose his purse than to call his conscious attention to the fact -- and its consequences -- that she was dominating his gaze and his thoughts. She made her decision by instinct, and let Grynne go, and moved on.
She didn't expect him to actually track her down and meet her, or to look at her in the open, cheerful way he did, but then she didn't realize that he had been shadowing her for some time already, and that he wanted to preserve her as a reliable distraction for his victims, without risk that she would call out the next time and see him caught. She was used to men and boys offering her gifts, but it still caught her by surprise when Grynne met up with her later that day and said, "Fair's fair; the decoy's as important as the knife," and gave her a share of the money from the purse he'd cut. He was so young, it was hard to take him seriously, but he was sharp and cunning and had picked up a thorough knowledge of the streets, and Matrix liked the open, unassuming way he talked to her, without trying to show off or impress, without a hunger in his eyes ... and the things he said made sense. So a tentative working relationship began, already developing into the beginnings of a friendship. Independent as both had become by then, and willing as they both had been to leave their real families behind, they filled a void in one another's lives as they came together: He as a brilliant little brother to her, she as a clever, appreciative, street-smart older sister, like nothing and no one either had ever had before.
They worked well together for a few weeks ... then for months ... then for years ... coming up with new schemes and trying them together, relying on each other more and more. Toward the very end, Matrix began working on wealthy men who made easier but less lasting and useful prey, persuading them to tryst with her in their own homes when everyone else was away. With the help of the master of the house to ensure there would be no interruptions, and Matrix commanding his attention as only she could with intensely close contact, Grynne could go through the house with complete security, seeking the most valuable things to steal as if shopping at a store, then split the take with Matrix as he had been doing for years. It couldn't last though; one evening, a too-suspicious wife came home early with her entourage, caught Grynne in the act of theft, and caught her husband trying to conceal Matrix from her. Their marriage was destroyed in that evening, but one thing did unite husband and wife one last time: The need to squash the potential for scandal and blackmail. Unfortunately for Grynne and Matrix, they had aimed too high at the wrong moment, and their wealthy would-be victims had the necessary pull to arrange exile for them without public trial. So it was that, not long after they began to achieve the greatest success of their dubious careers, Grynne and Matrix found themselves aboard a ship bound for Lost Souls' Island. They could have blamed each other, and many would have in their places, but they were practical people, both individually and as a team, and they'd gone into "business" together with open eyes. They knew the dangers they'd be facing in exile, especially as a dangerously attractive young woman and a youth still in his teens, and having worked so well together for so long, they preferred to face those dangers together, relying on one another still more than they ever had to before.
